


A Crown of Tears for the Broken Hearted

by HisaHiru



Series: Silent Scream [2]
Category: Captain America (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Angst, Bucky Barnes Feels, Bucky Barnes Recovering, Hurt/Comfort, Implied/Referenced Abuse, Implied/Referenced Rape/Non-con, M/M, Steve Rogers Feels
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-01-04
Updated: 2016-01-04
Packaged: 2018-05-11 18:25:17
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,809
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5637211
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/HisaHiru/pseuds/HisaHiru
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sequel to 'A Silent Scream is Always the Loudest'.</p>
<p>Bucky wasn't exactly the brightest but he knew something wasn't right. Steve was hiding something from him and he intended to find out what it was. And yet at the same time, he started to feel unsure about himself. Just what exactly was going on?</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Crown of Tears for the Broken Hearted

**Author's Note:**

> It's been a while... But first, Merry Christmas and Happy New Years! I just hope this year would be better than the last one. Everybody should hope so, I guess.  
> Anyway, this wasn't exactly a new story... Basically, it takes me this long to gather my will and interest to get to work on this. So here it is.
> 
> This story is the sequel of 'A Silent Scream is Always the Loudest'. People said they were unsatisfied with how it ended and I get that-... I mean, now that I read it again I feel it too. So here is the sequel, and I think I'll give them a better ending this time. A happier one.  
> There'll be a couple chapter to post since putting everything in one chapter will be too much. 
> 
> But anyway, another special thanks to Blanchezy who betaed this for me. It has been a while since I last posted anything and she always stood vigil, ready to lend me an ear (and an eye).  
> And I'm sorry for any inaccuracy or mistakes you found in the story. Now please, go ahead.

When people said that family didn’t end with blood, they were right. For Bucky, the last man he could count as his family shared none of traits. In the past, he would stand tall, looming over the lad he always referred as his best man. While Bucky’s brown hair gave him quite enough trouble every morning he woke up, his blond hair would fall limp over his face like dry grass in summer. Bucky remembered clearly every moment his bluish gray eyes met his sky blue ones, how those orbs showed him hundreds of emotions the man prevented to show on his face. Even now, 70 years later, when the man had underwent such a huge change most people wouldn’t believe he was the same guy they almost step on back then, Bucky could see little resemblance between him and himself.

But for all its worth, Steve Rogers was the last family Bucky had left. And Bucky was so damn glad it was him, and nobody else.

It wasn’t like he didn’t love his ma or anything; he loved her to death, God bless her soul. But there was time in his life when he felt Steve played a bigger role, that Steve was the one who managed to keep his head above the water when no one else could. Those moments in the past when all Bucky thought was important was keeping Steve alive through the cold winter night, he faced and accepted the fact that having Steve clinging close to him was the one who kept him going. The thought of having someone who needed him, who couldn’t break through another day without him, brought him more comfort that he dared to admit.

And then the roles were turned. Bucky was the one who needed someone to lean on, to hold on. And there was Steve, who could stand straight with his two legs like a statue of liberty in the middle of heavy storm, holding his hand and whispering assurance that everything would be okay. Every night, when he woke up with his lungs constricted and his body wet from pouring sweat, nightmare still vivid behind his eyelids, Steve was there to calm him down. The routine kept going day after day until the moment Bucky was quite sure he managed to keep the nightmares at bay.

It wasn’t like he could remember what he dreamt about in the first place, anyway. All he knew was that it was so fucking bad he couldn’t lure himself back to sleep afterward, and it was scaring Steve shitless.

“Bucky, you sure you’re gonna be okay? I mean, I can stay and let the guys handle this. I’m sure they can-…” Steve’s voice brought Bucky back to the real world, coming in breaks as he hopped from one foot to another to pull his pants up. Captain America’s uniform looked so damn simple yet it was such a pain in the ass to put on.

“C’mon Steve, I promise I won’t lay on the floor dead by the time you come back. Rest assured, man,” Bucky chuckled, helping Steve to retrieve his helmet and dropped it on Steve’s waiting hand. “It’s like, what, four hours top? What’s the worst that could happen?”

Steve appeared uncertain still and chewed on his bottom lip. “… You sure?” he raised an eyebrow, eyes brimming with anxiety. “Call me if anything happen, okay?”

Bucky breathed out a forced laughter out of his chest. Steve was acting ridiculous again. “I’ll let JARV handle that, make a call whatsoever. You don’t need to worry about me, Steve. It’s been, like, ten months since I came here and you’re still acting like a mother hen. I’ll be fine. It’s you I’m worried about.”

The statement Bucky gave caught Steve off guard for a moment. “Me?” he pointed at himself, clearly waiting for Bucky to reveal the true meaning for his words.

“Well yeah… Just, promise me you’ll come back here in one piece. You got a hella bunch of teammates, and one of them is a frigging god, so to speak. Make use of it, don’t jump straight into the pan when you can’t handle the heat, punk,” Bucky knew Steve understood what he was talking about. Bruises and scratches after a battle was nothing unusual, but it sure was disturbing when the other members of the team shared no similar injury to bear. He approached the blond and grasped both of his shoulder firmly. “No playing hero all by yourself, you hear me? Not when I can’t be there to keep an eye on you.”

“I know…” Steve mumbled, giving him a reassuring smile that didn’t quite reach his eyes. Bucky couldn’t bring himself to actually believe that Steve did know.

He didn’t understand how scared Bucky was when he woke up seeing Steve sitting on the edge of bed, moaning in discomfort behind the protection of the shadow. He didn’t understand how fast Bucky’s heart beating inside his chest as he reached out to turn the light on and saw Steve flinched, trying to hide the remnant of tears that stained his face. He didn’t understand how hard it was for Bucky to keep his calm while he ushered Steve to rest his back onto the pillowed bedpost and clean his wound. Steve told him he went out for a quick job in the city with the rest of the Avengers when he was asleep and Bucky replied with a hesitant nod. As it happened more times than he liked and Bucky expected that the Avengers sure had it hard with their work.

When Thor appeared on the doorstep in all his glory, skin unblemished like the sculpted god of Greece he was, Bucky drew a conclusion that either Steve got a totally shitty team or he bit more than he could chew on every time he went on a mission. Either one wouldn’t surprise him, to tell the truth.

“Just-… Try to keep the scratches to minimum this time, you hear me?” he gritted his teeth, waving his hands around to keep his composure. Steve’s eyes softened as he watched Bucky struggling to push the sappy moment away.

“Cap, the hell took you so long?!” Tony’s voice blazing through the earpiece he put on his ears. “I’m all dry and wrinkly waiting for you here, just so you know! We all are!”

“Sorry, Tony! Just a sec, I’ll be there!” he informed, pressing the earpiece gently as not to break it by accident. It had happened once and he was determined not to let it happen for a second time. “Well,” he grinned at Bucky and leaned closed to press a quick peck on the corner of Bucky’s mouth, which Bucky relocated and deepened with ease. “O-okay, better be going now!” he chuckled, pushing himself away from Bucky and jogged toward the elevator.

“Don’t do anything stupid!” Bucky called out once more.

“How can I? You’re taking all the stupid with you,” Steve replied with a grin before the door shifted close.

 

0oOo0

 

Bucky wasn’t stupid, neither was he ignorant. He wasn’t exactly the brightest one in store if people asked, but he knew when things were not right. And so, he could tell that there was something Steve was hiding from him. What he didn’t know was why. Maybe he was reading too much into it, maybe it was just his mind playing at him. After all, he was not exactly sane in his head not one year ago.

But anyway, it took time but Bucky somehow noticed it. The bruises and scratches Steve hid behind the thick layer of clothing he wore even in summer. Bucky didn’t blame Steve for hiding it from him but he sure did hope he could find out from the man himself, not by accident like walking into the bathroom at the wrong time. The first time it happened, Bucky saw red before he saw Steve walking to him to tell him that it was all just an accident, that the mission he was doing before took the wrong turn and managed to get him good for a moment. Bucky believed him, when Steve ushered him back to the bed to get the rest he needed for his recovery.

The second time it happened, Bucky just woke up from his long slumber, muscle aching like he was just doing a long marathon without taking a break, when he saw Steve slumped on the corner of the room with his hands carefully dabbing clean cotton over his open wound. Bucky asked him why didn’t Steve woke him up, that he could at least keep him company and go on the mission with him and watch his back. Steve just said that Bucky wasn’t ready, that he was still weak and need all the time he got to rest and recover. He said that the Avengers got his back while Bucky was absent, that he should rest easy and everything would be just fine.

And then there was the third time, and the fourth time, and the seventh time, the tenth time… Bucky lost count. All of those were from missions, and yet only a couple of them Bucky knew for sure did actually come from a battle. The rest were familiar to him because Steve told him so, that he was fighting in a mission and the enemy caught him of guard every now and then. Bucky remembered that time Steve came back from his mission in London, rushing right to his crumpled form on the floor in their shared chamber. He knew those scars back then did come from his mission, because JARVIS and the rest of the Avengers were the living proof. But the other?

Bucky wasn’t stupid. He may not receive the best education but he knew Steve better than anyone. He was superior in the terms of reading Steve like an open book. Steve was hiding something from him, and he intended to find out what. But how, Bucky didn’t know. He was worried. Worried about Steve… and yet something inside him told him that he had to worry about himself too.

There were times when Bucky woke up from sleeps he didn’t succumb into. He was having blackouts, and he knew it wasn’t healthy. There were times when he thought he was sitting on the couch, taking a break to rest his eyes, and next moment he was already on the bed in his pajamas in the middle of the knight and had split knuckles. Steve would waltzed into the room asking if he was okay and Bucky would lie through his teeth, that he was okay and that he accidentally punched something and hurt his hand.

Steve would swallow it whole, he always had.

He knew he should have seek help, or at least ask anyone if there was something he could do to-… like, get better. He had became much, much better than he was 10 months ago, when he was all wreck and sobs. But he couldn’t shake the feeling that everything was too smooth. There was something deep inside him whispering that after all he went through, there was no way his mind was still in tact. There was no way time alone, and Steve’s help of course, could heal him like magic doing the trick. He was hoping it was just him being paranoid, but he knew he should prepare for the worst.

He didn’t want to think about that too much.

He had to.

But he didn’t want to.

“Bucky, you okay?” Steve waved his free hand in front of Bucky’s face, trying to get his attention. His other hand was currently nesting quite uncomfortable in Bucky’s tightening grip, half bandaged as Bucky stopped rolling the clean bandage around 4 minutes ago. “… Hello? Bucky?”

“Oh-…? Yeah, what’s it?” Bucky blinked repeatedly, shaking his head to clear his mind before resumed the task he had in hand.

“You’re zoning out for a moment,” Steve furrowed his eyebrows and gently pulled his hand back, taking hold of the bandage Bucky gripped in his fist. “Here, I got this. You should rest-…”

“Fuck that, Punk,” Bucky frowned and snatched both Steve’s hand and the bandage back. “I’ve rested enough for a lifetime, you go get some yourself while I clean up this mess you got for yourself,” he huffed, not missing the worried look Steve bore. “I’m fine, Steve.”

Steve sighed; leaned back into the couch and let Bucky handled the rest. “Yeah, right…” he mumbled, closing his eyes and trying to catch up with some sleep he needed after hours of muscle work.

Bucky raised an eyebrow and flicked Steve’s nose, no malicious intent but at least hard enough to make Steve flinch. “What was that?” Bucky questioned.

Steve shrugged, acting like he let nothing slipped out of his mouth just now. “Nothing. You’re hearing things.”

“Whatever, Punk. There, I’m done with your hand,” he made sure the bandage were there to stay for at least a couple days, or maybe less since Steve was known for his capability of fast healing. He was no doctor but at least the wound this time was nothing serious that required Bruce’s help. “Now take off your clothes, I’m gonna check the rest,” he gathered the bloodied cottons he had used to clean Steve’s wound and dumped the all to the trash can before turning around to work on his next case.

Steve made no move to shrug himself out of his clothes. He was no longer in his uniform but Bucky doubted he got time to seek Bruce for a quick check up before coming up to his floor to meet Bucky. Hell, the wound of his hand was untreated before he arrived here, after all. “My clothes? There’s no need to-…” he pointed at his whole frame nervously and Bucky noted that his voice were started to waver. What was this?

Bucky stepped closer toward Steve and couldn’t hold himself back from feeling hurt when Steve unconsciously flinched back. “C’mon, Steve. There’s nothing I haven’t seen both up and down, front and back,” which was saying everything. There were lovers, rolling in the sheets naked was part of the status description.

Then again, now that he thought about it, they hadn’t had sex in weeks. He remembered thinking about getting it on with Steve two days back but he guessed he fell asleep before they even started since he found himself waking up all alone in the morning. That sucks. He couldn’t remember falling asleep, though… No, this wasn’t time to think about such things.

The blond started to sweat even though the room was quite chilly with the air conditioner on. “I already have it checked by dr.Banner-…” he didn’t even get a chance to finish his sentence when Bucky cut him short.

“Your hand was still bleeding when I pulled you in here, Steve.”

“Well… he kinda forgot that one.”

“The fuck, Steve?” Bucky was starting to get frustrated. What was so hard about it, he couldn’t get it. “C”mon, off with the shirt!” he persisted and decided to take the matter into his own hand. It wasn’t the first time ever for Steve to cower and run away from him when he wanted to treat his wound. Usually, this meant the wound was either look ugly enough Bucky would feel pissed at himself for not being there to prevent it or look stupid enough that Bucky would know Steve got it from an also stupid thing.

“No, Buck-…!”

If there was one thing, Bucky was a stubborn son of a gun. Steve was clearly looking for a way to escape but Bucky was having none of that. He reached out to grab the end of Steve’s blue shirt and tugged it up. Steve realized it a little bit too late and tried to push the clothes back but Bucky had seen it. It was there; not all that vivid since time had took its toll and erased the worst part of it. But Bucky knew what he saw. Finger marks.

There were bruises marring Steve’s skin around his waist, peeking through the end of the jeans that Steve let hanging around his hips. The color must have been blackish blue once but now left only ugly yellowish marks. There was scratch marks following the bruises, like nails being dragged around deep enough to tear the skin. If he was seeing it on anyone else, Bucky would guess that it was an old wound-… Like, maybe a week or so. But it was Steve. And Steve healed fast. The mark couldn’t be more than two or three days old.

“Steve… Where’d you get those?” Bucky’s voice was extremely calm even though deep inside there was a storm ranging.

“Where? From the mis-…”

“The enemy gives you that?” the way Bucky’s voice sounded made Steve cringe. “I’m not stupid, Steve! What, the enemy grabbed your hips and left that mark?”

“Well-… I mean, they were-…” Steve was at lost about how to explain it. Clearly he didn’t expect Bucky to find those marks soon enough before it disappeared. He made a move to get closer toward the door but Bucky wouldn’t let him get away before giving him a solid answer. He had to know.

“Steve, I’m gonna ask you again,” Bucky took a deep breath and grabbed Steve’s hand with his metal one, refusing to let it go even when Steve made an effort to tug it loose. “Where did you-…? Steve, Steve look at me!” he raised his voice and Steve’s head jerked up to meet his eyes. “Where did you get those?”

“A fight-… It was from a fight and-…” Steve avoided his eyes and it started to piss Bucky off. Why couldn’t Steve cooperate and tell him what he needed to know. This was for his own good! “Bucky, your hand-… It’s starting to hurt.”

“Don’t lie to me!” Bucky was close to screaming and tightening his hold around Steve’s wrist. The was a faint creaking sound and Steve moaned from something close to pain but Bucky couldn’t bring himself to back down. “Tell me the truth, Steve! Where did you get those?!”

“Bucky-…!” Steve grabbed Bucky’s arm and started to pry those metals fingers open but it wouldn’t budge.

Bucky tried hard to catch every jumbling word inside his head to form a full sentence but he was failing. “Are you-…?! Were you-…?! You cheating on me?!” he drew a conclusion in such a short time and didn’t bother to get into a second thought.

Steve was startled at such accusation but he was currently busy getting his hand out of Bucky’s tight grip before his bone shattered. “What?! No!” he replied, horrified. “Bucky, listen to yourself! You’re not thinking straight!” Steve said with his teeth clenched, his words sounded like a plea more than anything.

“Then answer me!”

“Buck-…!”

“What?! You can’t trust me, huh, Steve?! You and your little secret, can’t even spare a glance at me now?!” he knew he started to make no sense but there was no stopping this. “You’re too good enough for me, Ste-…?!”

“BUCKY!” Steve screamed out loud as Bucky yanked his hand hard he lost his balance for a second.

The shout startled Bucky back and returned his sense, as if cold water had been poured right over his head and woke him up from a foggy dream. Bucky blinked, trying to comprehend what was happening. He was there, breathing hard like he had been running, with his metal hand cuffing Steve’s wrist dangerously tight. He could feel Steve’s bone creaking beneath his contracted muscles, silently begging Bucky to loosen his fist. He blinked for what seemed like the nth time, looking at Steve who was watching him with fearful eyes.

It was then that Bucky released the hold he had on Steve’s wrist as if the touch itself burnt him.

“Steve-… I’m sorry-…! I was-…”

“Bucky, calm down,” Steve hushed Bucky with a wobbling smile. He was trying hard to put the tension down to a more acceptable level while he himself was struggling to keep his heartbeat slow. “Look at me-… Hey, Bucky, baby, look at me.”

The nickname Steve used to refer to him slapped him sober even just a little. “Steve…” he bit his lip when Steve cradled his head with both hands and pressed their forehead close. He could feel Steve’s breath tickling his lips and nose. “I’m so sorry…” he muttered, drawing a shaky breath as he closed his eyes.

Bucky could feel Steve gently brushed his hair for comfort. “It’s okay,” he whispered. “Just calm down, okay…? It’s not your fault; I’m the one who should apologize. I shouldn’t have kept from you. I’m sorry.”

Bucky wanted to say no, to say that it wasn’t Steve’s fault. But he couldn’t trust his voice so much right now he ended up replying with a shaky nod. After what felt like a blink of an eye, Steve drew his hands back and Bucky missed the warmth already. That was when Bucky realized what he just did. The wound he had just cleaned up not 5 minutes ago was now bleeding again, the stitches had been torn open the moment Bucky gripped it tight.

Seeing the horrified look on Bucky’s face, Steve spontaneously propped his bleeding arm with his fully functional one and held it close to his chest. The blood was seeping through his shirt but it didn’t matter now. “Look, it wasn’t your fault. You didn’t know, Bucky. You didn’t do it on purpose, you hear me?” he inhaled a steady breath and released it on the third count. “I’m gonna-… I’mma go see Bruce and-… Get this, you know, taken care of. Go get some rest for now, okay?”

“Yeah… Okay.”

Steve offered him another one of his gentle smile and strutted out of the room. Bucky could hear the sound of the elevator door opened and shut close from his position. He didn’t dare to move. All he could do was staring at the stained carpet he was standing on, the spot where Steve’s blood dripped and seeped through the material. Bucky didn’t know what came over him. One moment he was worried and next all he could feel was the rage and anger-… And fear.

He took a couple steps back and slumped on top of the armchair. All of those emotions he felt in the past ten minutes had faded into nothing, leaving no trace for him to remember. Now all he felt was regret. He wanted to be the one to protect Steve, to offer him reassurance that everything was fine. Everything was okay.

But now he wasn’t sure.

He hurt Steve.


End file.
